


Six Feet

by Goldielochs



Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Arena Battle, Asspollo, ComeUpence, Revenge, smackdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 12:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldielochs/pseuds/Goldielochs
Summary: Persephone is not going to let Apollo gaslight her. No more words. Put your dukes up, sun god.





	Six Feet

**Author's Note:**

> Another oldie but goodie. I can't get enough of Persephone arena fighting Apollo. I can't help it. It's not as good as Trial of Apollo, (but really, what can be?) Hope you enjoy. xoxo Goldie

  
  


* * *

"Persie girl." Apollo's lips curled as he called out to her among the crowd. He stalked forward, a playful smile twisted further on his lips, but his eyes were dead and serious. She'd been ignoring his texts. But she couldn't hide for long. She saw Hades standing near the back. Quickly, she edged around the room towards him, but then Apollo caught her.

"Let go of me." She hissed.

"We need to talk." He said in a hushed tone as not to cause alarm to the rest of the party.

Persephone flicked his hand off her, then deftly grabbed his wrist in her own. "No more talking. We settle this in the arena." Her tone was not quiet. Several cliques stopped their raucous chatter to listen in.

"You want to fight?" Apollo scoffed.

"What?" She raised her eyebrow. "Are you scarred?"

Apollo looked around at all the staring faces. "It's just. . . I don't want to fight a lady." He held his hands up, defencelessly.

"It's a damn fine time to start treating me like a lady now. You should have thought about that before. Why start now?" Persephone grinned maliciously, calling back to their conversation in his car.

"You sure about this, Persie?" He folded his arms across his chest, toying with the idea. "I'm a skilled fighter. This isn't play time in your garden."

Persephone snarled. "I could fight you blindfolded."

"Yeah? Well, I could defeat you one handed." He bit back.

A flicker of a grin twitched on Persephone's lips. "Shake on it."

"Fine." He held his hand out.

"Fine." Persephone matched his tone. "We fight. You win, you can do whatever you want with me. I win, you never come around near me again."

There hands met angrily. A glow erupted from their hands, binding them.

* * *

The crowd start chanting. "Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight." The stadium lights lit the arena with a buzzing harsh electric pull. Dusk was settling in. Half the sky melting from blue to orange as Helios walked further and further away. The normal lines in the dirt, for the regular sporting activities in the stadium had been washed away.

The dirt, sprayed down, so it would be more compact crunched slightly as Apollo walked out onto the field. He sported track pants and a yellow warm up hoodie. He waved at the crowd that began cheering, calling his name. He played them up, winking at the nymphs nearly falling out of their seats to get a better look at him. His clothes shifted like a mirage from his athletic wear to a set of greek battle armor. His hoodie, for one second turning into a shiny breastplate and helmet. As he neared the middle ring wear the King sat, his clothing settled back to his modern wear.

Persephone emerged from the other entrance. The crowd didn't know how to react and she didn't play into them. She walked calmly but with stoic determination to the middle.

"Fighters." Hermes hopped up on the edge of the Arena platform, acting as emcee for the event. "Choose your weapon!" He showcased the rack of impressive weaponry leaning against the side of the wall.

Apollo walked forward first without any hesitation and plucked a weapon from the rack.

"A bow. How surprising." Hermes commentated. "Persephone? What say you?"

Persephone tilted her head, eyeing the staffs, swords, whips, daggers, polearms, javelins. Nothing seemed quite her flavor. She gazed down, eyeing each weapon, tossing and turning the idea in her head. Unsatisfied until she saw the tools left a few feet away from the armory. She glided past Apollo and her hands gripped around the handle of her weapon of choice.

"Oh come on now." Apollo laughed. "That's not even a weapon. Geez, Persie. I'm beginning to think you don't want to win. This is going to be a quick fight."

"Yes." Persephone swung the old shovel up around her shoulders casually. "It will be."

Hermes leaned away from his mic. "Are you sure, you don't want something like. . . I don't know. . . a sword?"

"This'll do." Persephone smiled peacefully.

"Okay." Hermes eyes widened incredulously then put his lips back on the mic. "Our fighters have chosen their weapons. Now. As set forth for the rules of the match, Apollo, you will have a hand tied behind your back. If you break out of it, you forfeit. Persephone. You will be blindfolded. If you remove your blindfold at anytime, you forfeit. You must remain within the walls of the arena. The winner will be decided when their opponent has been restrained, knocked out, unable to stand, or surrenders. Shake hands if you agree to these terms."

Apollo sneered viciously and held out his hand. Persephone gracefully shook it.

"Alright. Find your places, then we'll bind you as the terms state." Hermes yawned, getting rather bored with all the formalities. They each walked towards the ends of the field.

A magic cloth appeared and pinned Apollo's left hand around his back, tying his shoulder along with it, to hold his arm there. Persephone's eyes likewise were covered with a magic band. No light could pass through it. She breathed in, filling her lungs to the brim then exhaled and shook out her shoulders. Quietly, she slipped out of her tennis shoes. Her bare feet on the dirt, and her lips twitched again.

"Are our fighters ready?"

"Ready." They both replied.

"Begin in three, two, one." A gong sounded.

Quickly Apollo pulled up his bow, holding the grip in his hand and the string in his mouth. As accomplished as he was, even with the handicap of not having his good hand, he could still make any shot in any position. Just as he clenched his teeth from the string, his foot sunk into the earth and his right hand flew up. The arrow released and flew up, hitting right into the far back stadium lights. The buzzing hum of the lights died with a loud pop followed by a slow whir. Persephone's side of the field sectioned off in darkness, one light at a time.

"A fluke." Apollo shrugged and wrangled his foot from the ground. He could barely see Persephone's outline. She hadn't moved. At this distance he was still at the advantage even in dim lighting. There was enough on his side for him to see accurately enough. Persephone only had a melee weapon, if you could call it a weapon. She would have to be much closer. It didn't appear that she had any intention of moving. "Begging for it." He rolled his eyes. This would be over quick enough. He thumbed the fletching of the next arrow and knocked it. He moved this time, keeping a steady gait. She was blind, and couldn't trace him. He pulled the string back with his mouth once again. Aiming for her chest, a large enough target. A steadying breath. . .

Schlump.

This time he sank so far into the ground that he spun up on his back to avoid falling on his face. The arrow he let fly hit the electrical box on the far right column up above. It buzzed, hissed, and then sparks flew out as every light in the arena went dark. Angrily, Apollo threw his bow to the side. _Fine. If this is how she's going to play. If she wants to get physical. Then let it get physical._ He had more strength than she did. If it came to a brawl, he could overpower her. Crawling back up to his feet, Apollo eyed the other end of the field. But he couldn't see anything.

People in the crowd began screaming at the lack of light. Some annoyed, others frightened, most were just upset they couldn't see what was happening. Shuffling could be heard all around as were the whispers between the shouting.

Hermes voice echoed through the arena on the loudspeaker: "We're getting our emergency back up lights up in just a moment. Don't want to miss any of the action."

There wouldn't be much more action. In a full dash, Apollo bolted through the arena, his eyes alight with the glow of the sun. He didn't need the back-up generators to see. He was the light. By the time the generators were turned on, the crowd would see him standing victoriously over his opponent. He kept his feet off the ground as much as possible. He knew her game now. He wouldn't be caught the fool again.

And then he ran face first into something cold and hard, knocking him on his back. He blinked, and the light vanished from his eyes. The sun lowered into the sky. The orange hues rolling over into a dark dusk. He heard the strangest series of noises. A metallic scraping. But rapid. He didn't just hear it. He felt it. Felt it all around him with his back to the ground.

Thud. Scrape. Swish. Over and over again. He blinked a few times. Had his nose always felt like this?

Thud. Scrape. Swish. He blinked again.

Thud. Scrape. Swish. _Shit. Get up. Get up. _

When arose again, a loud switch turned on. Then a buzz followed it as red emergency lights began to flicker on, alongside the walls for the arena. The crowd gasped as they could finally see what had been happening inside the arena. Apollo stood in the middle. Surrounding him were holes, dug into the dirt. Long rectangles carved out of the ground. He stepped towards one and peered over into the hole that was exactly six feet deep. These weren't just any kind of holes. He straightened up and saw that the whole field was full up with graves.

The hair on Apollo's arm stood on end, a soft pink in the red light. Persephone couldn't be seen anywhere. He peered into another grave. Empty. She had to be hiding. He looked out at rows and rows of graves. He made an irritating clicking sound out the side of his mouth. _How annoying. _He thought this would be over quickly, but he wasn't expecting this. He rubbed his nose and winced. How did he not see her coming? He shook himself out. Now was not the time.

He stepped lightly now. The red lights glaring eerily over the now empty cemetery Persephone created of the arena field. Peering over every grave.

"Come out, come out wherever you are." He sang lowly. "Let's get this over with, Persephone. Enough games. We fight now. No gimmicks or tricks, like the lights. Let's finish this." He saw the sleeve of a white hoodie draped along the side of one of the graves. "Got you." He whispered to himself. "Come out and play, Persephone." He snarled.

The ground shook. The walls of the graves began to crumbled in, throwing Apollo off balance. He darted towards the hoodie, jumping over the loosening dirt. "GOTCHA!" He yelled as he threw himself over the hole, but it had collapsed in. He dug his hand into the dirt. "Come on!" He tried to grab her. "Come out and let's finish this!" He tossed the dirt to the side.

A pink hand arose from the grave next over.

"Ha." Apollo shrugged. Movement caught in his perripherie. "I knew you were in that one, I was just-" But then his face froze and the smile was knocked clean off of him. From every grave, Persephone emerged. Small, pink goddesses filled the arena, one by one, dusting the dirt off their clothes, smelling the air, stretching their arms, and then all at once, turning towards him. A sea of blindfolded Persephone's. Their white clothes glowed red, her pink skin dark. Her hair, on some cut short, on others, long, still others, had theirs up in a bun or ponytail. They all wore her white yoga pants, barefoot. Sports bra and the sash around her eyes. He couldn't count how many there were.

"Shit." Apollo backed up. He had been mistaken. The arena field was not a cemetary, but a garden. She wasn't suggesting his death, but foretelling her rebirth. Over and over again.

Their march forward was even, unhurried, and calm. Pink and red bodies looped around the sunken holes in the earth without much effort. Each Persephone had their eyes covered in the magic cloth, but they moved their head in unison. A finger rose from the nearest one, and all of them began pointing at Apollo. Secret accusations never told, pointing directly at him. Worst than a thousand stares. Unseen sight.

Apollo flipped towards the other direction and scrambled towards his bow that he had tossed. Still, the Persephones continued their slow march, not speeding up to match him.

Quickly, with one shaking hand he knocked the arrow. And sunk it into the nearest Persephone. But instead of sinking, it flew right through her. The moment right before the arrow landed, her skin turned into the leaves of a bush and the arrow past right through her, leaving no mark or wound. Apollo gasped. It took a few seconds before she turned back into the pink goddess again, shaking out her leave to form smooth skin, but it did buy him enough time to knock another arrow. Another Persephone was gaining on him. He aimed for her head. This time, just as it was about to pierce into her skull, the arrow burst into a dozen petals and they fell gracefully to the ground. He pulled another arrow out of his quicker, pulled the string with his mouth, this time aiming for the furthest Persephone. If he could find the real Persephone, the others would disappear, right? She would be at the back.

However, before he could see whether or not he managed to hit his target, the first Persephones blocked his view. The stepped forward together, in harmony. Marching onward. The emergency light dousing them in red light, making them look even more sinister as they cornered their prey. Apollo shuffled back. He reached for another arrow, but his hands merely found a bouquet of flowers in his quiver.

They opened their mouths, but the echoing whispers didn't come from them. "You know what you did." A clear voice said behind him.

"Huh?" Apollo whipped around in time to see Persephone standing behind him with a shovel in her hand. She smacked him across the face so hard, his whole body swung into the shallow grave beside him. The other Persephone's ran now, leaping on top of him, turning into a thicket of vines around him. His screams turned muffled, horrified. Persephone picked up her shovel again and piled on dirt onto Apollo's writhing body, already buried under layers of vines and flowers and thorns.

Thud. Scrape. Swish.

The grave filled now. The garden, planted.

Apollo's muffled screams stopped suddenly.

Persephone sighed and leaned against the shovel, wiping the sweat off her forehead. She had already won. Hermes had all but called it earlier when she first hit him with the shovel and knocked him out, but no one could hear it. No one could see it.

With a twist of her palm, the grave shook and sprouting out was a large pomegranate tree. Apollo's form, spliced into the trunk, unconscious and trapped. His good arm outstretched, into the limb of the tree, reaching towards her. She plucked a pomegranate from it's boughs.

"Thanks Apollo." She smiled while her foot flipped the shovel up with ease. She smashed the fruit on the blade, opening it up so she could eat the seeds inside. "Just what I wanted."


End file.
